Saved in the Lick of Time
by DancesintheWind
Summary: The pack just finished a battle but where's Stiles? Derek searches for him and finds him in dire conditions. pre-Sterek


The fight was over. They had won. They all met back at the cars. They had left the vehicles in the woods and walked on foot to the battle.

Derek inspected his pack. Jackson had a few bruises on his face that were already beginning to heal. Isaac's shirt was torn and bloody from claws but his skin underneath was flawless. Allison, Scott, Lydia, Boyd and Erica were all fine. Stiles - where was he?

"Where's Stiles?" Derek demanded, a little panicked as he realized Stiles was not among them. The pack stopped what they were doing and looked around, also realizing for the first time that a pack member was missing. "When and where did you last see him?" he implored his pack members. Scott spoke up first.

"He was with us during the fight. I stayed close to him because he is... only a human," he finished his thought in a whisper, suddenly fearful, imagining all the possible scenarios of Stiles getting injured.

Derek growled. The pack flinched but they knew that he wasn't growling at them, but at his frustration and sudden fear for the annoying human.

"Scott, take the girls back to the house. Stay with them till you get our call," he watched as Scott stiffened with the order but hustled the girls to one of the cars. Derek knew that Scott would keep them save. He turned his attention to the rest of the pack, "The rest of you, spread out and start looking for Stiles. Be careful; there could still be enemies in the woods, they might have Stiles.." they all picked up on his thoughts. There could still be enemies left alive and they could have taken Stiles, they could be hurting him right now...

Derek hunted Stiles by smell. He could smell his sweet, sweat smell but also the metallic odor of his blood. He tracked through the woods, hunting, searching. He thought Stiles was annoying as hell but couldn't imagine the thought of losing him. What would he do without him? Stiles, with his whiskey colored eyes and delicious looking lips. _Whoa, where did that thought come from?_ Derek shook his head and focused on the task at hand, silently reprimanding himself for getting distracted.

Stiles' scent became stronger and stronger as he weaved through the trees. There! Movement! Derek saw a taller man standing over Stiles. He had Stiles pressed up against a tree, holding him in his arms with one thigh pressed in between Stiles' legs. His mouth whispered next to Stiles' ear but Derek could only hear Stiles' frantic heart beat. It almost looked like he was interrupting an intimate moment until the man slashed at Stiles with a long, wicked knife. Derek rushed forward, wolfing out and roaring his fury. In one smooth movement, he slid his claws into the man's backside, grabbed his spine and ripped it out of his back. Blood and sinew splattered across the area and the man crumpled to the ground, dead.

If only he had run a little faster, if only he hadn't paused when he saw them together, if only... Derek had his face in his neck, breathing in his scent as he quickly ran his hands over Stiles' body, checking for other injuries besides the obvious one. When he was satisfied that the rest of Stiles was okay, his hands quickly pressed firmly into the wound. He kicked the body at his feet aside, moving him with the respect he deserved.

"Stiles," Derek whined. He was surprised the kid had managed to stay upright. He was still pressed against the tree, his hands pressing over Derek's hands, whimpering with pain. His laboring breaths were obvious as his shoulders heaved with each in take of breath. Even with Derek's firm and most likely painful pressure on the wound, blood continued to soak into Stiles' shirt and leak through Derek's fingers. The stench was unbearable, sour and salty; his wolf whimpered, smelling death on Stiles. Derek raised his face to the sky, letting out one long, deep howl, signaling the the rest of the wolves that he has found him.

"Derek," Stiles managed, clenching his teeth together with pain, "did we win?" Always seeming to look beyond himself. Huff, even at a time like this. He let out a grave chuckle.

"Yeah, we won," momentarily at a lost with Stiles' circumstance. He couldn't lose him. What would he do without him?

"Good," he tired to smile, by grimaced instead, "uuugh," he moaned, clutching his middle and bending over.

Derek quickly moved in closer, knelling down in front of Stiles. He slowly peeled his hands off the wound, inspecting it for damage. It was an incredibly deep cut. Stiles was losing too much blood. If Stiles didn't get help right away, he was going to die.

"You have to hold on Stiles, hold on," he swallowed thickly, afraid of what was going to come next.

The rest of the wolves arrived within minutes, using Derek's howl as a locator device. They whined and moaned, smelling the death that clung to Stiles' skin. They hung back, in a loose circle around the pair, waiting to see what their alpha would choose to do next.

Derek peeled back his hands and gently pulled Stiles' shirt up. The shirt was in the way and needed to be taken off for this to work. With care, he slowly removed Stiles' shirt, gently ripping it with his claws before pulling it off the teenager. Stiles' voice hitched, giving away the only sign that he was in pain. He leaned in and sniffed the wound. He could already smell infection but that was the least of their worries. He had lost a lot of blood and needed the wound to be closed now, or he would die. Derek grimaced and looked away for a moment.

"Am I going to die?" whispered Stiles, as he peered down to Derek, knelling below him. The wolves whined their distress.

"No," Derek murmured. He gently lay his hands on Stiles' hips, holding him for comfort while also pining him to the tree. Derek was doing a lot of things gently, it was uncharacteristically but he wanted Stiles to be as comfortable as possible.

He moved his face in closely to Stiles' side, nuzzling the skin before tentatively licking at the wound. Stiles' breath hissed out from between his teeth as he moved his hands to rest in Derek's hair. Derek sniffed the wound again and gave it another lick. He could feel Stiles' fingers burying themselves in his hair and could hear his panting, it grated on his ears, a constant reminder that Stiles' life was teetering on the edge of death and damn, he didn't want to lose him.

Derek administered another lick, dragging his tongue over the whole cut and then going back over it with short, fervent licks. Nuzzling Stiles' side again, this time in apology, he slide his tongue into the wound, lapping at the clotted blood and licking away infection. Stiles' withered in his grasp, crying out and begging Derek to stop. If he could have, he would have stopped and held Stiles in his arms, holding him and kissing his brow. _Whoah. Where did that come from? He had to stop thinking like that. _ It was painful to see and hear Stiles' this way, especially since he was the one causing all the pain, but he had to keep going. He had to save his life. He felt Stiles tug on his hair, fingers curling on his scale as Stiles begged for Derek to just kill him. Derek closed his eyes in anguish, tightening his grip on the boy's hips and continued to slide his tongue inside the cut until he was certain all infection was gone.

Now that the wound was clean, Derek busied himself with sealing it. Stiles sighed above him, seemingly also glad that the painful part was over. He licked, slurped and sucked at the cut. The point was to cover the cut in his saliva. Derek has a natural ability to heal with super human speed, and since his saliva was also a part of him, it could be used as a heal salve, to speed the process of healing for others. He continued to lick and suck at the cut. Without intent, Derek began massaging Stiles' sides with his finger tips, humming reassurances to the teenager as he healed the wound. Stiles tried to hold back his moans as he felt Derek's lips move over his skin.

Stiles was breathing heavily, his hands were buried in Derek's hair, combing and massaging his scalp, as if to apologize for the tugging from earlier. He had his head bent, watching Derek lick his wound. Derek's eyes were closed but he expertly licked and nuzzled his way across Stiles' middle. Stiles almost moaned at the sensual scene, his eyes resting on Derek's swollen lips as they moved over his body. Derek was loving him with his lips, like they were lovers. The scene was heady, stirring something inside him.

Derek was almost finished with his work. He sucked on the cut, pulling the edges together and running his tongue over the fracture, sealing it with a thin scab. He pulled back and admired his work. Stiles might have a thin scar for the rest of his life but he was going to live.

The wolves howled in appreciation, cheering and mingling, exuberant in Stiles' now obvious recovery.

Derek looked up at Stiles, who was grinning and looking back down at Derek, still kneeling beside him. His hands still rested on his sides, moving his fingers in circles. With his eyes locked on Stiles', he leaned over, planting delicate kisses over the scab. Stiles gasped as he watched Derek.

"All better," he whispered huskily. A warm feeling settled in Derek's stomach as he noticed Stiles' flushed skin and parted lips.

"Thank you," although the words were simple, they hung heavy in the air. Derek gave a small, rare smile in response, and turned his head quickly, gently nipping Stiles' fingers with his teeth before giving one last kiss to the teenager's wrist, feeling Stiles' strong pulse there, a sign of his life.


End file.
